Her Mother's Daughter
by Vain x Life Poetess
Summary: One-Shot. Creatures of the Underworld sequel. Ten years after the end of that story Mary, the child of Katherine and Lucian, plots her revenge. She vows to take everything Henry loves and destroy the Tudor monarchy. Will she succeed?


**"Hell Hath No Fury Like A Woman's Scorn."**

Mary looked beneath her. She guessed this is what it must feel, to be in control. "My love." He said.

She wasn't a Queen but she was his Queen, and outside these chambers she still commanded him. If she wanted she could have half his kingdom. It was just punishment for what his father had done to her mother, his late wife.

"How fares our child?"

He eyed the small bump in her stomach. She might not be Queen but she was his Queen and that was all that mattered.

* * *

He came in days later, the son of her stepfather to tell her that he had done the evil deed. "I have done it!"

Mary giggled. Inwardly telling herself –you poor fool –you do not know what you have done. And now I reign supreme.

While they made love under the starry night sky that night, he promised her that never again would she be anyone's captive. "You will be free." A naïve girl would believe him, but not her.

She knew him better. She had known his father better. He would never release her and as long as he lived she and her abomination would be tied to him.

* * *

The announcement came as a surprise to everyone when she showed up in Court. The late dark King of England, Henry VIII was not yet cold in his grave when his son declared that he would take Mary as his bride. Anne Boleyn's son surprised everyone, including the lesser Princes, Katherine Howard –his father's third wife's- sons.

"Your father would have been ashamed." Katherine, the once giggly girl, now serious and angry that her nephew and stepson had done something so stupid, said.

"My father was a fool who locked up the only treasure his wife ever gave him in a tower. Now I have released her and she will give birth to my future heir."

"An abomination!" She shouted and everyone shouted with her.

Henry IX jumped from his table and cried to his guards to seize her and waned to whoever dared to question his judgment. Unbeknownst to him, the men next to him, abominations themselves smiled. Thomas Seymour, Baron Sudeley –a title he'd earned for his good service- could not help his smile. His father came from a long line of Lycans and his mother was human. Through her knowledge of herbs, they had been able to hide their scent. But that was not enough for Viktor who saw right through them, but before the dark father revealed their Lycan nature, Ned –his older brother- killed him.

Lucian rewarded them good but Lucian wanted something more than just the dark father's death. For all his prowess, the man's vision was too limited. He wanted freedom for his species from the bondage of Vampires and humans alike but what came after, he wasn't sure. So he had to go. He and his entire ilk were slaughtered. Ned was his closest confidant and he betrayed him, just like that.

Not soon after he did, Henry VIII found the location of the Poles and his late wife's daughter. Thomas could almost hear Princess Victoria, the abomination's older sister screaming insults at her, begging her father to kill her. But for all his ruthlessness Henry VIII was a sentimental figure and a romantic fool. He could not kill his wife's daughter, even if she had made him the laughing stock of Europe, so naturally he did the only thing that could rid himself of any evildoing and set his conscience at ease.

He locked her up. Eight long years and for eight long years she didn't see or hear another soul until her stepbrother came to visit her. Intrigued by the young hybrid, he just had to see her.

He was a vampire but unlike his father, he didn't share his views about the separation of species. And he was fascinated by her beauty that was so unearthly to him and everyone who'd saw her.

Poor Prince. Thomas thought. She had ensnared him. He thought she loved him but like her mother she possessed that calculate mind and like her father, she knew how to hold a grudge.

The anger she felt at Henry VIII, at the Tudors, and all of England, had been festering inside her for years since she found out what happened to her mother and it had gotten worse since their late King locked her up in a tower, hoping that the sunlight would kill her. It didn't. Sunlight made her stronger. And she didn't have to rely on blood to survive, though it did make her unborn babe stronger.

The King sat on the throne and commanded everyone to resume their festivities.

Everyone dared not say a word to him. He set his dark brown orbs at his bride-to-be. She smiled at him, a sardonic smile that he could not see because he remained focused on her beauty.

* * *

She gave birth six months later and to everyone's dismay who were hoping that the abomination like its mother would be a girl so the King –llike his father before him- would tire of her and set his eyes on another; she gave birth to twins. Two healthy boys.

On my womb –she thought as she eyed her two little babes- I set my revenge. And her revenge didn't take long. The children grew quickly and in their third year they were already full adults and it was during this time when Mary was at her prier de due -her hands encrusted with jewels and her neck surrounded by beautiful pearls –including her mother's rosary- that she decided she would take her final revenge.

She came to her husband's chambers one night and finding Henry there waiting for her, she served him a cup of his favorite wine mixed with his favorite blood. The following morning he was struck with a fever. And the morning after that, he was dead.

Mary was the unquestionable ruler of England, she ruled through her sons. And to make this vengeance sweeter, she broke every rule in canon law and married her eldest son and King to her sister, Princess Victoria. She told her son to do whatever was necessary to get a babe in her and amidst the screams and pleas from her older half-sister, her son took her and planted his seed in her.

When he announced that his wife, her sister, was pregnant, Mary knew her vengeance was complete.

Her sibling had been cruel to her, she had rejected her mother and taken her stepmothers, one after the other, first Anne then Katherine Howard, to her heart. But in the end it had been her, Mary Tratasmara, the bastard who everyone had laughed at. The one whom the pope and Luther had declared the devil's child, the bastard whom everyone wanted to see burn. It was she who had had the last laugh. And in the end she smiled genuinely for, when her grandson was born and Victoria died unable to bare the pangs of childbirth, she had won.


End file.
